The Fate We've Overcome
by Dusklets
Summary: Sonic had never questioned his morals until that moment. He could fufill his only purpose or sacrafice his worth to save another life— and that fox's pleading expression wasn't making the choice any easier. {AU, SONTAILS}


_Life is what you make it...most of the time._

**Chapter 1 - The Cloaked Figure**

Sonic gazed at the slumbering figure, pondering if he looked as stalkerish as he felt. Peering at a sleeping person through a window wasn't regular human behaviour, for all he knew.

Eyes glinting in the moon's light, he fumbled with the window's lock, nimble fingers working quickly and restlessly.

With a inaudible click, he slipped through the now opened window, dropping onto the carpeted floor. "*Alright. Scan your surroundings, Sonic. Yeah, that's what comes next..*"

His padded shoes thumped against the ground, taking in the furniture of the house. It resembled an abandoned mansion, with the paint on the wall peeling off and stains besmirching the already tattered furniture. He cringed as he realized the black and red splotches splattered on the carpet.

"I swear, if my sneaks get dirty I'll sue!"*

He shook his head and turned towards the sleeping person he had be examining earlier, who was sprawled across a battered couch. A blanket was draped across the Mobian's body, along with a rag plopped on his or her's face.

A small, muted part of Sonic was against it, this person was clearly sickly. Stealing from someone weak and helpless wasn't right.

But this was his job. The circumstances were irrelevant in the end, as long as he got things done...Right?

Just then, he heard the unmistakable clatter of glass shattering. His ears perked and he froze.

Someone was here.

A grin slowly spread across his muzzle. Finally! This was it! Here it was, a cool action fight scene with improvised weapon, speed, snarky one-liners—

"Wh-what do you want?"

Snapping out his thoughts, he blinked up at the one who stood in front of him. Or blink down, as he happened to be quite short.

A thin fox, with patchy gold fur and ghostly blue eyes. In his trembling hands he clutched a rusted wrench, yet he didn't seem eager to use it. His thick tail was tucked in between his legs, a sign the cobalt hedgehog registered as fear.

Sonic had to stop himself from sighing in disappointment, dead-panning at his quivering opponent. He adjusted his cloak's hood, straightening his posture and preparing his _dark and mysterious_ voice.

"Let's make this easy, bud: I do what I need to do, you don't interfere. Unless you'd like to be restrained physically, that is." As the sentences left his mouth, he grew more and more disgusted with himself.

The kit, still shaking, spoke quietly: "I know what you're here for. I...I can't let you have it." He seemed to become more sure of what he was saying as he continued. His grip on his weapon tightened, and he switched into a battle stance.

Sonic smiled. "Well, you're lucky I like a challenge."

With his quills rigid and mind focused, the speedster lunged for the kit. The fox braced himself and rose his wrench over his head.

The two connected, flying into the floor. Their faces were inches apart, and Sonic's mind buzzed a bit.

Shaking his head, he made grab for the wrench, but the kit kicked him in his stomach. He grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and pinning his adversary back to the tiled floor.

The kit thrashed and yelped, struggling for the control of the wrench in hopes of knocking Sonic down. Due to the difference in strength, however, the cobalt hedgehog snatched the improvised weapon and tossed it behind him.

"*You have him now. A sharp blow to the head and he's knocked out.*"

Then, he hesitates. Something about this was wrong. This Mobian couldn't be older than 14, and hurting someone younger than him was almost...cowardly.

At that moment, Sonic was punched hard enough to whip his head to side. He was able to stifle his yell of pain as he held his aching cheek.

The one responsible wasted no time in jumping to his feet and retrieving the fallen wrench.

The hedgehog stumbled to his feet and spun on his heel, his hands curled into fists. He temporarily forgot about his morals and was one second away from kicking that jerk into next week for bruising his beautiful face—

That was, until he noticed the two, fluffy tails that protruded from the kit's backside.

"W-wait...what?"

The fox turned to face his opponent, tilting his head slightly. "What are you— Oh...You've seen them, haven't you?"

The hedgehog knitted his brows. "Is that natural?"

The fox's muzzle flushed red, and he glanced down at his feet. "It was a birth deformity." Suddenly, his face contorted. He glared at the quilled intruder, bringing the wrench up to his chest. "I shouldn't be telling you this. Weren't we fighting?"

The hedgehog, however, had switched focus to something else: the supine figure that lay motionless on the couch. "Who's that?" He trudged towards the couch, looking over his shoulder to maintain eye contact with the kit.

Lowering his weapon, the two-tailed fox dashed in front of Sonic and held his arms out. "W-WAIT! Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this!"

Sonic's eyes flashed, and he shoved the kit aside. He slipped his hands into his cloak, fishing out a jagged dagger. It's handle was coated in a strange sparkly substance.

The hedgehog raised the dagger to his forehead and clenched his nerves.

The kit watched, eyes darting around. What was he doing? Some sort of demonic ritual?

Well, demonic ritual wasn't to far off from the truth.

Just then, the cloaked speedster holstered his weapon and sighed. He turned to face his downed opponent. "She has it, doesn't she?"

The two-tails bit back a gasp and jumped to his feet. He stood in front of the unmoving figure. "She needs much more than you do. Please, leave us alone." His tone switched from confidence to pleading almost jarringly, and Sonic found himself in a predicament.

Of all his years of training and conditioning, he was taught to take what he needed, no matter who it effected or why.

But there was something about this fox...

Something that made him question himself, and what he had been taught since childhood.


End file.
